She could not speak.
Warm blood pulsated in my mouth.
Cascading over my rigid tongue, to soothe my burning throat.
“Heavenly,” I thought.
As I ripped through her porcelain skin.
Tearing through the springy flesh that tried so desperately to keep.
I slit the throat with razor, sharp teeth.
Staining them with her crimson flow.
I could tell by the way her heart was beating , that she knew she was going to die…
And with a stomach-clenching crack, I bite…
By Bloody I.V.
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